


tremble

by lovelyleias



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Ishbal | Ishval, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riza seeks an outlet for her fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tremble

Riza struck the flimsy match on the side of its wooden box, her breath hitching as it caught fire. She held the match between her fingers for a moment, watching intently as the flame danced brightly in the fading evening light. She had swiped the unattended matchbox from the mess tent on a whim, and had walked as far from camp as she dared, desperate to distance herself from the day’s terrible altercation.

_Can you honestly tell me, in that split second when you take down an enemy, you don’t allow yourself to feel the slightest tinge of satisfaction and pride in your skills?_

Kimblee’s hoarse voice echoed in her ears, and she dropped the match into the sand. Muttering a curse under her breath, Riza reached into the box, clumsily searching until her fingers found purchase on the slim piece of wood. She pulled out the match and lifted it with trembling fingers.

_Well, Miss Marksman?_

The match slipped from her fingers before she could light it, and Riza choked back a miserable sob.

_Did you put on that uniform thinking you wouldn’t be asked to kill?_

“My aunt smokes, and I swear I can never get the stink of it out of my clothes,” a too-familiar voice interrupted her memory. Roy Mustang crouched beside her. “I hope you haven’t taken up any bad habits, Cadet.”

“No,” she gripped the matchbox tightly, willing her hands to still. “No new ones, anyway.”

Roy shrugged off his tan jacket and sat upon it like a picnic blanket. She recalled him doing the same thing when he had lived with her; sheepishly admitting a fear of grass stains. His habits, apparently, hadn’t changed. “What are you doing with those, then?”

“I wanted to prove Kimblee wrong,” she admitted. “I wanted to burn something, without causing destruction.”

Mustang turned to her, his mouth pressed into a thin white line and shifted ever-so-slightly closer. She had thought him beautiful, once. Though it was harder for to see, his beauty was still apparent, though hidden under the ugly surface of war. She brushed her shoulder against his so softly that it could have been mistaken for an accident. He reached out and put his fingers on the matchbox. The box quivered between them, and Riza realized that her hands weren’t the only ones shaking. She recalled Mustang’s face as Kimblee had taunted them. He had looked as ill as she had felt. She let the box fall into her lap, and threaded her fingers through his.

Their hands were filthy: stained with ash and gunpowder, tainted by the lives they had taken in the name of their country. But they held on tightly, squeezing each other’s hands until they stopped shaking. Mustang leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.

“One day, we will have the chance to fix things,” he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. “Promise me you’ll be with me when it’s time to rebuild what we have destroyed.”

“I promise,” Riza breathed. Kimblee _was_ wrong. She didn’t take pride in her ability to kill. But perhaps, one day, she would take pride in her ability to heal. She rubbed her thumb across the palm of Mustang’s hand.

And no matter what, she would never be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt fill [on tumblr](http://lovelyleias.tumblr.com/post/149449905572/shaking-for-royai) (royai, shaking). I haven't written these two in ages, so this felt like a nice warm up.


End file.
